Drops of Color: Journeys into Hogwarts
by hannahannah
Summary: Drops of Color is an ongoing collection of 100-word HP drabbles. Each drabble is inspired by and titled with a different paint color. Please read and review.
1. Author's Notes

A drabble is a story containing exactly 100 words. They are harder to write than they sound.

This will be an ongoing collection inspired by and titled with the name of a paint color.

I make a promise to you, my faithful readers, that I will upload three drabbles during the week.  
In return, I ask for nothing more than some reviews.

I will write any ship you ask for, but not smut.

The characters are not mine; I am merely borrowing them to paint with, to explore with and to live through.

_Please enjoy them._

_Review Generously._

_Live Vicariously._


	2. Belgian Sweet

Please note that to help you envision my colors, I will be using only Behr paint names. To see the color, visit www,behr,com (subsititue periods for my commas) Click "Explore Color", and then "Start ColorSmart" and search by the chapter title.

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The Grangers strolled along the streets of Antwerp, their hands intertwined. They passed buildings of stone and brick, old historic houses that somehow conveyed conviction and faithfulness.

Hermione shook her hair gently in the breeze, and her eyes lit upon an old brick building at the edge of the quiet street.

She walked closer to read the sign, and she smiled.

Thirty minutes later, she and her parents emerged, their pockets packed with creamy chocolate.

Hermione took a bite and savored it, as a lone owl flew across the cobblestone streets with a letter for a precocious eleven year-old girl.


	3. Pesto

Ginny giggled.

It was never hard to make Ginny giggle, but in this case, a giggle was called for.

Ron was standing in the middle of the Weasley kitchen, manly smashing garlic bulbs into tiny pieces with all of his might.  
He had never been seen in the kitchen to prepare food before, and yet there he was. Beside him lay a bowl full of basil.

The sound of Ginny's giggle startled him.  
He looked up, blushing red, and answered her unspoken question.

"It was supposed to be a birthday surprise.  
Well… uhh… Happy birthday Ginny. I made you pesto."


	4. Coastal Fog

A heavy fog covered the grounds. A deep fog, one that didn't disappear as lunch neared. This fog didn't roll, but rather gave an impression of terrible permanence, as though sunbeams would never again pierce the clouds.

All the students huddled inside the candlelit castle. They spoke softly, as though to speak too loudly would cause the fog to put down roots.

Well, not all. Alone of the students, Draco Malfoy stood in the fog, enveloped on all sides by the cloud, along the shores of the lake.

He stood silently, a barely noticeable silhouette in the coastal fog, contemplating.


	5. Velvety Merlot

_this is for Autumn Skys... thanks for your reviews..._

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Harry let the blanket unfurl in the wind, then spread it out.

Ginny mock-applauded.

Then, she sat down gracefully, pulling Harry down too.

Harry opened the checkered bag, and pulled out sandwiches, glasses and a small bottle of wine.

He poured some into a glass and handed it to Ginny. She swirled it gently, watching the way that the sunlight sparkled off of the velvety Merlot.

Then, impishly, she put down the goblet.

She leaned in closer…. and closer... and closer until their noses bumped.

He laughed, and she laughed. He tilted her head back, and gently kissed her lips.


	6. Grassy Field

I feel betrayed, abandoned again.

My home is burned to the ground; my parents are dead.

I want revenge on Voldemort- to kill the monster who ripped my life apart.

I want to go back to my home, to Godric's Hollow.

To my childhood, to a time when my mother baked cookies I was too young to eat; to when my father cracked jokes I was too young to understand.

This letter lying abandoned on Sirius's floor and the picture it was sent with- they are all that I have of my parents.

Well…. these papers… and my green eyes.


	7. Planetarium

Please note that to help you envision my colors, I will be using only Behr paint names. To see the color, visit www,Behr,com (substitute periods for my commas). Click "Explore Color", and then "Start ColorSmart". Then just search by the chapter title.

Thanks for reading!! ( and please reviewJ )

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Minnie looked up and saw sky.

Her mouth dropped, her lips forming a perfect 'O'.

She saw swirling stars, glowing constellations.

_It's beautiful!!! _She thought. _Look—there's Ursa Major- and the North Star- and Orion's belt- and Sirius- and oh! Over there is Bellatrix!_

_I can see the night sky for miles… Each star twinkling to its own rhythm….. Did that one just wink at me?? I didn't know stars could do that… I wond-_

"McGonagall, Minerva?"

"McGonagall, Minerva? It's your turn to be sorted, child. Hurry along."

Minnie swallowed, and climbed the stairs to where the sorting hat lay.


	8. Witch's Hazel

Many of Hogwarts' teaching brooms are battered, their twigs stick out at awkward angles, their handles assure splinters in awkward places. Some are nicer, newer, ridden gently.

The first-years' eagerness to fly sputters to a halt….

Until they notice one broom: gently worn, still smooth and crafted with precision. Some boys drool, clenching their fists, - preparing to fight for that broom.

Something else about it makes Ron look twice.

Not the sleekness, smoothness; not style…

But the wood itself.

Soft, supple and exactly the color of Hermione's eyes.

That's just as it should be, obviously.  
It _is _witch's hazel.


	9. Cobalt Flame

Severus Snape bent roughly down to check on the cauldron bubbling on a cobalt flame.

He stirred it seven times clockwise, three counterclockwise. He added a sprig of rosemary and stirred it again clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise.

Snape sighed, lost in his thoughts of loneliness, in his regrets, his dreams. Then, returning his stern face to the task at hand, he consulted the book for the next ingredient.

Belladonna. Stir three times.  
Two drops of salamander blood.  
Powdered Ginger root. Stir twice.

The cobalt flame burned bright against the cool, heavy darkness, reflected a thousand times in his deep grey eyes.


	10. Antique Mauve

Muriel sat sipping tea from an antique mauve teacup, her lace handkerchief neatly folded in her lap. "So", she asked, "How are you doing, Ginevra?"

Ginny shook herself out of the lethargy Muriel's floral perfume caused. "I'm fine. Hogwarts is educational. I'm in Gryffindor like my brothers. I like my classes except Potions. I've been journaling like you said to…..but Aunt Muriel - I'm Ginny."

"Hmmmph! You are a young lady, almost twelve. You are- or ought to be, - too old for nicknames."

Ginny rolled her eyes as Molly entered the room to call the family in for dinner.


	11. Blaze Orange

Sitting around a fire is a primitive form of society, spirituality.

Flames crackle; small sparks shoot upwards.  
Whatever is discussed gains meaning to those in the circle.

_Draco Malfoy sits in the circle of Death Eaters. Flames hiss as they plan revenge, murder. Draco's face pales, barely noticeable in the dim shadows as the fire burns._

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_The Weasley family sits barbequing for dinner. They share dreams, laugh. Ron sighs contentedly, barely audible in the fire's merry crackle as the night deepens._

Sitting around fire brings people together. Faces glow with fire's blaze as people choose a path, a dream.


	12. Distant Thunder

Lighting flashed across the sky.

Luna stood by her window, her face smiling as she was pelted with tiny droplets of rain, each almost frozen, almost hail, almost snow. She stretched her arms out, ignoring the goosebumps.

Luna loved storms, she always had. They brought with them an energy that no other feat of nature could match. Energy that made her shiver with delight, tingle with excitement.

The other girls cowered under blankets as the storm grew in intensity.

The rain slashed down into the lake, the night sky was a black as pitch.

From far away, distant thunder pealed.


	13. Silver Drop

_Gray shapes floating  
__abstract  
__Unlove?  
__Love?_

_Why can't I unnumb myself  
__return to highs and downs  
__cold air  
__blahness_

_Inside Hogwarts' stone walls  
__I cannot find a place  
__where I can be apart,  
__away from their stares to cry._

_Numb  
__unloved  
__Now_

_Despite  
__my loneliness  
__or because  
__and yet, still  
__I cry pain  
__invisible tears  
__run down my face  
h__olding me deep  
__deep  
__within the unlove_

_I feel_

_Now that you are gone._

Crying, Cho crumpled the paper up and shoved it into her bookbag. She gathered her books, and slowly tried to return to life, a life without Cedric.


	14. French Pale Gold

hi all... since I cheated you out of two drabbles over the past fortnight, tonight and tommorrow I am going to put up make-up drabbles! lucky you! please keep reviewing- they really do make my day. Don't forget to check out the colors themselves :)

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Fleur sat on her bed, carelessly brushing out the knots in her hair. Her hair shimmered slightly in the sunlight, reflecting the star's glow.

She was nervous after packing for the tournament, afraid to bring valuables, heirlooms.

But she hadn't able to resist her grandmother's brush.  
Since she had been a little girl, Fleur had brushed her hair with her grandmother's old hairbrush, an antique of French pale gold.

The brush had lost some shine over the years, but the gold still caught the sun's sparkle.

It connected Fleur and her grandmother.  
It made her a part of something bigger.


	15. Caterpillar

Augusta Longbottom sat in a lawn chair, watching her clumsy darling of a grandson repot the garden. For a six-year old, he showed remarkable promise in Herbology –not that every six year old boy doesn't enjoy squirming around in the dirt, but Neville seemed to like it more than most- certainly more than Frank had.

She herself had always hated gardening .The best part of growing old had been giving up that chore.

A youthful squeal of joy pierced the air. Neville was running towards her as fast as he could on his short, stubby legs. "Look Gran!!! A caterpillar!"


	16. Desert Caravan

Bill stood up, looking out at the swirling desert sands. The sun's midday gleam was almost blinding.

He fingered his new piercing, thinking about how life is different all over the world. Rainy England to Sandy Egypt.

Grays to yellows.

Yet people are the same worldwide.

The dunes shifted as he began walking back, small grains of sand the same color as the sky falling towards the ground.

As he walked back to his room, he saw the stark silhouette of a desert caravan passing by.

He had to get his family to visit. They would love Egypt's wonders.


	17. Applesauce

SOOOO…. I know I just updated this morning, and that I only pledged to do three a week, but I just finished one of my updates and I loved it so much that I wanted to share it NOWWWWW…

Don't worry, I'll still put another one up this week [and maybe even two if my teacher's are nice and don't assign too much work :)

PLEASE review…it makes me so happy to get that email !!

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Lily bent over the highchair, trying unsuccessfully to convince Harry to open up.  
"C'mon Harry…. It's yummy…." she said temptingly, moving the spoon around her son's defiant mouth.

From the side, James laughed at her attempts to feed their son.  
"I'd like to see you can do better!" she huffed.

James smirked, taking the spoon from her. "See this 'Snitch'? You're the seeker- you're getting closer, you stretch your hand and" - Harry obediently opened his mouth.

Lily scowled - until Harry decided he didn't like applesauce, and spit it up on his father.

Lily smirked right back at James.


	18. Dragon Fire

thanks to jellicle-in-the-box for finding this paint color!

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The night was calm as fireflies began to glow. In his hut, Hagrid sat watching the flames in his fireplace, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle.

He watched the flames- red, blue, orange. But more than flames, he watched the large black egg. Roughly the size of a man's head, the egg sparkled in the fire's heat. Inside, a tiny dragnet lay slumbering, growing inside the shell. Inside, lay a baby, a wisp of the creature who would one day grow up to breathe fire.

Hagrid, so focused on the egg's beauty, failed to hear the tea kettle whistle.


	19. Twilight Chimes

Ginny snuck her head under Harry's arm, trying hard not to catch her earrings on his new sweater.

The earrings had been a gift at twilight on Christmas Eve. Harry had laughed at her impatience for Christmas morning, but then surprised her with a pre-holiday gift. The silver earrings chimed softly every time she turned her head. Ginny grinned, thinking about how many times she had tossed her hair today, or simply nodded her head.

Her twilight chimes would always sound their beautiful tone- except now, when she was snuggled so close to Harry that no sound could be heard.


	20. Burnt Almond

Sev huddled over his pilfered cauldron. He had studied every flower that grew on the estate; but he wondered whether nuts had potion-making properties…

_Dropping almonds in the cauldron, wincing as they sizzle loudly in the cold night. _

Fascinated, he grabbed his notebook, recording scent, flame, texture.

So engrossed that he jumped when his mother's stern voice echoed off the barn walls: "Severus Snape! Why are you sneaking around at 2 in the bloody morning burning hazelnuts?? You'll never get into Hogwarts like this!"

Sev hung his head, muttering softly that they were almonds, and turned to clean up his experiments.


	21. Yellow Flash

Colin locked the front door, then picked up his present. His Uncle had bought him a big, clunky camera for his birthday and it could adjust aperture, f-stop, zoom- Colin couldn't **wait** to experiment.

Ahead, he saw guards. Click. Click. Click; The blinding flash went off three times in rapid succession.

---

Downstairs, his nose still red from the wind, he submerged each negative, hanging each on a clothesline to dry. His handiwork displayed in crisp blacks and whites, Colin mused _how incredible would it be if there were a magic chemical that could make the people within photographs talk……_


	22. Starlight Purple

This is for Ananas72… Enjoy, and Happy Thanksgiving…..

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Starlight turns odd colors when you're stalling, like the heavens are mocking you for your fear, since only they know if you'll fail….

Tonight, James, Peter and I will try to become Animagi- animals that we've chosen to match our personalities.  
I wonder if they suspect the true reason that I've chosen a dog; to be as close to Remus, in shape and size, as possible.

I've loved my friend for ages… But it would never work –We four are too much a unit, and I wouldn't break this up.

And yet, I am stalling, scared under the purple starlight.


	23. Pressed Flower

50 reviews and 2000 clicks!! I love you all- thanks for giving me so much encouragment. I am having such fun writing these... Don't forget to keep on reviewing, and to keep on enjoying.

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Everyone is staring as though I were a circus animal.  
I thought I was done being the public victim.

Wrong.

Aunt Amelia murdered. Why does He-who-must-not-be-named hate my family so?

He destroyed so much that night; one of the only things left is a book inscribed in flowery letters "To A. Bones- Love"—just a tantalizing clue we'll never get to ask—with a small pressed lily inside the covers.

I'm scared to touch it; I don't want the petals to crumble, to destroy her again.  
Instead, I'm wearing a necklace with a tiny glass flower right over my heart.


	24. Shamrock Green

Seamus tossed in an armful of shirts, grabbed some pants. After dumping those, he reconsidered. He surveyed his room, noting the posters coating his wall.

Confidently, he dumped out the trunk's contents. He snatched from the mound a green shirt, pants and robe; picked two socks from his bureau.

Satisfied that he'd have clean clothes throughout the World Cup, he turned to important items: binoculars, posters, buttons, hats in shamrock green, accumulated over a lifetime of fanhood.

His trunk bulging with paraphernalia, he struggled, snapped the clasp;

Sat on his bed.

……. wondering how he'd keep busy for three months.


	25. Frost

Sorry this one's a bit late! I needed some inspiration :)

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Al woke up a bit groggily. After he wiped his eyes a few times, he turned to look out the window…. and saw a masterpiece.

The frost had crept in overnight, millions and millions of sparkling crystals, attached to his window in patterns and swirls; grass pointed straight up, encased in a glittering shell of snowflakes.

Al jumped up, ran next door.

"Ariana! Ariana! Look out the window!"

His three year old sister shook her sleep-mussed curls and turned.

"It's so pwetty!!!"

Together, they knelt on Ariana's bed, writing letters on the windowpane and tracing their fingers over the spirals.


	26. Silent Ripple

Pansy sat by the pond, watching the sun's reflection grow more orange, watching the trees die slowly.

Everything was dying. Blood was no protection anymore.

Everything was dying. And who even cared anymore?? This whole thing was stupid! All she wanted was a good shag with a guy who was nice, cute, rich.

Everything was dying. People hadn't always walked down alleys with their wands drawn.

Frustrated with her ruined life, she threw a pebble into the pond. She watched the rock enter the water without a sound, disturbing the water noiselessly, knowing that it could never be the same.


	27. Sonata

A Sonata.  
A song without words.  
A song flowing as lithe fingers dance across ivory keys, or fingers slide across well-worn violin strings…. A ripple of emotions, wordless feelings, passions.

Narcissa sat entranced, lost in a world of cascades, harmonies, arpeggios.

Music offered her life; gave words to her loneliness.

She wished she could play sonatas; to release and express the feelings deep within her that rose to surface, admitted their pain only when music is heard.

Lucius would never permit it.  
He wanted her emotions to be like his, locked away behind a façade.

Yet... she dreamed of sonatas.


	28. Toffee Crunch

I'll be honest… I thought we were past the stage where I have to beg for reviews…. Come on people! I don't know if I'm off track or anything if you don't let me know… Thanks. I knew I could count on you.

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Dumbledore nervously paced the corridor of the Ministry of Magic, his hand over his beard.

Frustrated, he picked at his teeth, hoping no one would notice. Oh, what had possessed him to eat a toffee crunch for dessert today? Granted, they were his favorite sweet, and he always had one after each meal…

But he was due to meet with the Minister in a minute- and he still had toffee stuck between his teeth!

He would never be able to concentrate at the meeting which would determine his entire career…..

From now on, he was definitely sticking to lemon drops.


	29. Moon Dance

Hermione and Viktor bowed to each other and began to waltz together-officially welcoming the school to the ball.

Stepping regally, twirling slowly, performing steps danced by lovers from ages ago, in the times of kings and queens, Hermione smiled as bright as the stars, reveling in the power of history to come alive.

She knew her friends would laugh at her bookish nature after the ball, but for now, she was content to enjoy the romance of dancing under Hogwarts' enchanted sky.

The violins played softly as she and Viktor twirled and dipped, danced a timeless waltz under the moon.


	30. Pepper Spice

Hi all…. This drabble took me hours to write. Using only 100 words is really not easy, and this one started out as almost 200. I'm trying to update regularly, but without reviews it just gets depressing, you know? Even if it's just a smiley face, or a frowney face, that's still appreciated….  
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After rising, Dobby joined the rows of house-elves preparing food.

He tossed a salad; began seasoning it- vinegar, paprika, garlic. Something was missing……

Pepper! Dobby spiced it liberally.

In a burst of freedom, he grinned, emptied the whole box into the bowl. He had never dared at the Malfoys'; yet here, Dumbledore had expressly permitted him to experiment.

Eyes shining, Dobby bent over to smell his salad. As he leaned in, a puff of pepper rose idly- and Dobby sneezed loudly.

As the other house-elves turned, stared at the newcomer who disturbed their rhythm, Dobby clapped his hands in delight.


	31. Birthday Candle

Harry watched as the clock slowly changed to 12:00. _Happy Birthday,_ he told himself.

Silently, Harry got out of bed and checked the mirror- but he still looked the same. He hadn't known what to expect, but he had thought somehow that turning six would make him look bigger, cooler.

He was six now, but he wouldn't get a party, or a cake with candles to blow out, or a group of friends singing to him, and giving him presents.

Dudley got all those, but then… Dudley got everything.

Sadly, Harry climbed back into bed and tried to fall asleep.


	32. Leather Bound

Hermione was curled up in the library reading an old edition of Billy Budd.

Her eyes narrowed as she read Claggart snarling at Billy.  
_Gee. Being hated for nothing. That doesn't sound familiar at all. I wonder why he's so mean to Billy. Maybe Claggart's jealous; maybe he doesn't want to admit he has feelings for Billy._

_What if __that's__ why Draco snaps ...He's got secret feelings for Harry.  
__Or me.  
__Or RON!_

Hermione's eyes sparkled and she burst into giggles.

She didn't notice that a blonde student sat staring wistfully, watching her laugh, admiring her beauty from across the room.


	33. Pumpkin Patch

Hagrid stood on his front steps, watching the sun set.

The way the colors blended, the way they were different every time.

He sniffled, blinking back tears from the beauty of it all.

Today's sunset began as purple, making its way towards deep ruby- but in the middle, taking up most of the sky, was bright orange, reflecting off the lake's ripples like a giant pumpkin patch, like a dragon scale….

Thinking of dragons set him off again, and Hagrid pulled out his monstrous handkerchief and blew- hard.

In the corner, Fang rolled his eyes at his master's emotional nature.


	34. Sun Kissed Peach

Draco woke in a sweat, with none of the usual morning drowsiness. The sun had just begun to rise, the sky's pale pink glow visible through the dungeon's window.

His nerves had awakened him early.

Today, he would rebuild his whole life. Everything that had been taken from him would be returned. Everything that had been denied him would be graciously given.

All he had to do was to complete his mission.

Draco dressed quickly and headed outside; breathing in crisp morning air as though every breath could steel him, help him succeed.

Today he would kill Dumbledore.

After that……


	35. Velvet Evening

Hey all… I'm really sorry for the delay. My computer crashed Saturday night, and I lost everything. I'm typing this on my dad's yucky computer…. Hopefully everything I had will come back and I'll get my computer again soon…

Until then, please bear with me!!!!! Thanks all……. And Happy New Year!

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Filch scowled in the corner. He disapproved of frivolity merely for turning the page in the calendar.

Pomfrey and Grubbly-Plank debated the merits of medicinal champagne, both women tipsy (or neither would have suggested that wine might cure a hippogriff's acne.)

Snape rolled his eyes at the lack of dignity among his fellows.  
McGonagall thought of ways to improve herself this year.  
Binns droned on about how this New Years compared to those he lived through, although no one listened.

And through it all, Dumbledore smiled. His blue eyes twinkled as the bells chimed twelve and a new year began.


	36. Pixie Wings

i am soooooo sorry for the unnanounced absence... my computer crashed, i lost all my files, i've had realllly hard midterms, my internet's being screwy... _Anyway..._ I'm back now, and I hope you enjoy them!

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Lupin carried the last of his trunks onto the train.  
He sat himself down, arranging his robes around him with pride.

_Now what? _He couldn't plan his lessons until he discovered what the students had been taught previously…  
(Although, he **had** heard about some escapade with Cornish Pixies … nasty pranksters, those, despite their tiny size……)

All his books were packed in the trunks.  
He wasn't hungry.  
The students surely wouldn't wish to talk to him.  
Yawning, the professor leaned back and prepared to sleep, ready to go back to the only place he had ever really felt at home…..


	37. Blue Spell

Ginny sat resolutely on her bed, refusing to admit she was moping.  
What she was doing wasn't moping... If it were, she would be pouting, holding a handkerchief, tears in her eyes.

She **wasn't** moping. If she said it enough, she would come to believe it.  
She was just feeling--- under the weather….

She **wasn't **moping--- she **wasn't, wasn't.  
**And then a small tear made its way past her eyelash and slid down her childish cheek…..

Struggling to hold back the sobs, she heard Harry call " Gin? You there? It's time for practice…"  
Suddenly smiling, Ginny grabbed her things.


	38. Realm

I have always been better than those around me.

Better than the pathetic, powerless Muggles who raised me in their filthy orphanage.  
Better than the trusting, mindless teachers at Hogwarts.  
Better than the Headmaster, the media, the Ministry itself.

I am ready to begin my conquest.  
Anyone who is accepted into my inner circle will find himself branded; those who do not will find themselves dead.  
No one will be able to shatter what I now begin, and I will make it so that what I begin will never end.

I will stop at nothing to be in charge.

**Forever.**


	39. Emerald Lake

Lucius looked out at the lake and hesitated.  
For the barest trace of a second, he doubted his actions: he had a mansion, a wife, a newborn child- did he really need more?

And then his weakness shocked him.

He was a privileged servant of the Dark Lord, sworn to follow him forever.  
Someday, Draco would too. Lucius felt no paternal feelings, but it was his responsibility to provide his heir with money and a place in the inner circle of the Dark Lord.

This reminded Lucius of his mission. He apparated away, steeled against another betrayal of his heart.


	40. Lion

Dean was lying on the floor nibbling absentmindedly at the end of his pencil.  
He had brought his best drawing pencil from home, but he'd forgotten a sharpener, so every line he made had to be precise….

Dean nibbled some more, stared at his half-completed sketch some more. Then, he quickly and confidently sketched in the lion's mane.

_That's not half bad….._

He erased the lion's left foreleg, and redrew it carefully.

Two hours later, satisfied at last with the lion's shape (and having used up most of his pencil), Dean brought the sheet down for Hermione's approval and spell.


	41. Tiger Stripe

The witch who worked at the Magical Menagerie hated coming to work.

She hated every moment of her shift.  
The noise never stopped, and people expected her to be knowledgeable about their very boring house pets.  
She had to feed the darn things and clean their cages.

The worst part was Crookshanks.

The monster had been in the store for ages. He was always getting underway whenever she sold or inspected a rodent.  
When he scratched, it _**hurt.  
**_And of course, no one every wanted to buy the darn animal after he had jumped on them.

Maybe today, she'd get lucky……


	42. Dark Cavern

Standing in the eerie cave.  
Wands lit.  
Cloaked in black.  
Masks.

Panic.

Draco took a deep breath, reminding himself of his father's humiliation. Of the disgrace that Potter had brought on his family. He was standing in his father's spot, trying to redeem his father.

Chanting.  
Green smoke.  
A hollow circle.  
Spaces.

Fear.

He wasn't giving up his soul, but saving his family from disgrace.  
It was time to put aside his feelings and ideals, accept the pure-blood prejudices as his own, forever.  
He would do whatever his Master asked him.

Draco's arm burned.  
His eyes smarted.  
Fog.  
Chants.  
Masks.

Panic.


	43. Pink Impression

Harry James Potter had had **enough** of pink.

He associated the color with Aunt Petunia's cleaning rampages….  
He'd done fairly well avoiding the darn color since he'd left the Dursleys-- but now it seemed to be everywhere!

It was all Umbridge's fault…. Her stupid little cough and that dumb sweater with a velvet bow… she looked like a five year old frog.  
I mean really, how did she expect to be taken seriously wearing that ridiculous color??

And then for the Fat Lady to be wearing it too??

Sometimes….. It felt like the whole _world_ was out to get him….


	44. Popped Corn

"Alright George, looks ready… pour the beans in."  
"Ready?"  
"Ready."

Together, they flicked their wands and whispered _saldelegzia._

**BOOM!!**

The twins found themselves covered in every-flavored popped corn… Grinning at their latest creation (and at the profit the snack would make), they high-fived silently.

Downstairs, Molly Wesley nearly dropped the waffle-maker when she heard the explosion. She was fairly used to crashes and loud noises coming out of Fred and George's room- but this was unusually loud and early.

Hmm...No screaming, so they must not be **too** hurt. She smiled, knowing that the whole family could now sit down and eat breakfast together.


	45. Skyway

Harry circled the pitch lazily, looking for the Snitch's golden sheen. It should be pretty easy to spot with such bright sunlight….

There!

Harry pushed himself into a dive, shooting across the field towards where he had seen it last. It was still hanging in the air - Harry felt the air rushing past him as he pushed his broom faster, faster. Ravenclaw's seeker had seen his sudden move and she, too, was hurtling towards the snitch…..

The snitch was just a few inches away- and if he caught it, they'd win. Just a few more….. a bit closer, stretch, _s t r e t c h _----


	46. Scarlet Caps

Harry could feel his fingers straining to reach the Snitch first. He was stretching, _**stretching**_, and –

His fingers closed solidly around the winged ball as he swerved to avoid the Ravenclaw seeker who had come so close.  
A huge cheer burst forth from the students in scarlet - they screamed with excitement; scarlet caps dotted the cloudless blue sky, tossed up with exuberance.

Harry sat there on his broom, barely able to believe they'd won.  
Again.

"Good game" he said shyly to the other seeker.  
"Good catch" she replied, and winked.

Harry grinned, his scarlet robes fluttering in the breeze.


	47. Liberty

Cornelius Fudge hated ending his coffee breaks.

He had refused to have an intern throughout his time in office because he felt such relief at getting up from the pile of complaints, whining, panic attacks, accusations that never seemed to end.

Those three minutes each morning and afternoon were the only times that he ever felt free.

But it had already been six minutes; surely his staff would get worried soon. He couldn't hide forever.

Almost pouting, Fudge turned and began to shuffle back to his office- looking mournfully at the enchanted windows and their sunshine as he passed by.


	48. My Fair Lady

It seemed a lifetime ago, that time before he'd told her how he felt.

He'd pulled her aside after dinner, hands hidden behind his back.  
A blush spreading across his cheeks, he had said shyly "These flowers are for you, Hermione."

Taking the small bouquet, she had inhaled their scent deeply. Her eyes shone.  
"Thank you" she'd whispered back.

Gently, he had run his fingers over her smooth cheek.  
"Anything for you, my beautiful lady."  
They had each blushed again, a light pink dusting from ear to ear.

Then, he'd leaned in slowly, and given her a delicate kiss.


	49. Mermaid Harbor

Cedric lay contentedly in the prefect bathroom, watching the mermaid giggle.  
Below the shores of the lagoon, mermaids laughed, peered upwards through the lake's crystal waters and watched mankind.

Cedric took a deep breath and dove under the bathwater's surface, now devoid of pink bubbles.  
The mermen swam upwards and in circles around the mermaids preening for their attention.

Cedric thought about the troubles that he'd have to face soon.  
The merpeople pushed thoughts of upcoming trouble to the back of their minds.

Each in their own waters, they lived life - neither knowing that soon their paths would cross.


	50. Snowball

Hermione walked the grounds thoroughly engrossed in her book- until icy snow hit the back of her head.  
She shrieked, almost dropping the library book- rescuing its pages from the snow just in time.

Whirling around, she saw Harry and Ron laughing, their hands bright red from the snow's cold.  
She bent, mashed a handful of snow and sent it hurling their way.

The fluffy snow didn't stay together long, but the distraction gave her time to tuck her book safely in her bookbag… then she was hit with another snowball.

Laughing, the friends chased each other through the snow.

_------------------------------_

_I am sooo sorry for the delay! I wanted my __**50**__**th**__ drabble (!!!!!!) to be amazing, but then I had a huge writer's blank. So I figured, I'd just draft one and see where it took me. _

_Thanks for coming so far with me! __Keep REVIEWING__ and encouraging me… and maybe we'll make it to 100 :)_


	51. Orchid Kiss

Lavender sat at the mirror brushing her hair till it shone. Satisfied, she gently took each long curl and pinned it to her head, creating the _very _sophisticated effect of having just having woken up.

She bit her nail, trying to figure out what to add….then pulled it out quickly before her manicure was ruined….

Lav checked the time, then quickly brushed some Orchid Kiss on her eyelids, delighted with how it caught her eyes, made then sparkle… plus- she just _loved_ the fact that she was wearing purple… and named purple!!

Giggling, she headed down to dinner to meet Ron.


	52. Wooden Swing

Lily sat moping.  
So what if that wasn't polite??

Then the pleasure of doing something wrong caught up to her.  
She smiled.

Then scowled.  
**She** couldn't do **anything** right.

It was always** Petunia **who did things right- she colored in the lines, looked both ways, ate her _yucky_ spinach.

Last night's there'd been spinach and Petunia had eaten her whole portion but Lily had pouted, refusing to eat it, and then it turned out be spoiled and Petunia shouldn't have had any.

That was funny.  
Feeling better, Lily pushed herself back and forth on the swing, wishing she could fly.


	53. Italiano Rose

I am dressed in a silk gown as I wait by the window.

It has been four months since Lucius began courting me, but I have always known that we will end up together.  
I do not mind- Lucius is always well-dressed, polite, punctual….

Except today.

I bite my lip nervously; willing my hands not to twist a ringlet in anxiety.

And then he comes, tall and powerful, striding up the path, knocking at the font door.

"I apologize, my lady, for being late. Here, if you will- a gift."  
From behind his back, he pulls a lovely Italian rose.


	54. Fond Memory

"And James Potter tries to get a goal past the devilishly handsome Sirius Black but, due to his stunning looks and extraordinary talent, Black saves the goal!" 

James stopped his flight, rolling his eyes at his friend. "Do you _ have_ to give this running, self-centered commentary whenever we play one-on-one?"

Sirius laughed. "Isn't that what makes the summer games fun? At school, they follow the quaffle, but I've always thought commentaries should focus on the best player. Especially when he's handsome, like me."

-----------------

Laughing, silhouetted against the perfect summer sky.  
Years later, that was how Sirius would remember it.


	55. Warm Brownie

"Alright … you beat me. I'm man enough to admit it."  
James laughed. "Yeah, but that was a _great_ catch you made up there."  
Sirius winked. "That's why the ladies love me-"

"Boys! The brownies are out of the oven… are you hungry?"

"- and that's why they love _you!_" continued Sirius smoothly." Your mom makes the best brownies on the face of the planet. We're coming Maggie!"

Together, the two boys, almost brothers, began to jog towards the Potter home.  
Their brooms were dropped on the porch as they raced to grab two of Mrs. Potter's Holiday brownies apiece.


	56. Secret Garden

Severus Snape sat thinking, hidden in the shadows at the end of his driveway. 

Thinking that he really didn't want to go Hogwarts.

Because Lily wouldn't be able to come too.

A twig snapped.

Snape slunk deeper, practically invisible. "Sev? I know you're there. I have a secret to tell you. I got a letter from an owl today saying that I'm a witch. Mum told me not to tell anyone because no one would believe me, but you believe me, right??"

Smiling, Severus stepped out from the bramble. "Of course I believe you. And I'm going to Hogwarts too."


	57. Clock Strikes Twelve

Draco sat in a starched white shirt swinging his feet. Some of Father's friends were coming and Mother was making him get all dressed up but his shirt was pokey and his collar itched and he liked eating dinner just with Mother better because he got to sit on a shorter chair and rest his toes on the floor, but whenever Father had company he had to be good and eat with everyone and smile.

Why weren't they here already? He'd counted twelve clock strikes by himself and that was when Father said they'd be here and he was hungry.


	58. Make Believe

**Two in one day…. Aren't you lucky? I almost didn't put this up because I think Chapter 57 is really good and I love getting reviews, but then I figured that you were all probably waiting on the edge of your chair to get it….. (Read: I was procrastinating my chemistry homework)…….Anyways, enjoy and review (in that order….)**

* * *

Ginny tiptoed past the kitchen door, surprised that Mum hadn't caught her.

She headed towards the pathway, excited to be taking a walk like a big girl.

Right. Left. Pretty flower.  
Right. Left.  
Did grownups really do this?  
Just take walks without someone to play make believe with?  
No dolls or anything?

She sat down by the edge of the road. Taking walks alone was stupid!!

"Hey there cutie, whatcha doing at the side of the road?"  
Fred! Her eyes lit up.

"I tippytoed out tho Mum didn't thee me but thith ith boring. Will you make believe with me?"


	59. Antique Ruby

Please review... i need some cheering up...

* * *

The basilisk hissed, its tail getting closer to Harry's head but its attention focused on the soaring phoenix.  
Screaming, Tom Riddle's memory yelled at the snake desperately commanding it to kill the boy.

The beast turned; from nowhere, Tom saw the glint of a ruby embedded in a sword that in his future he would seek but not find, a sword that would stay locked away in Dumbledore's office, try as he might to gain it.

The ruby flashed. The basilisk fell.

As the orphaned boy became defenseless once again, his sword stuck in the dead snake, Tom's spirits rose.


	60. Satin Ribbon

Luna sat in a quiet corner of the greenhouse watching grass grow.

It wasn't as boring as it sounded, since she was also practicing her charms homework at the same time. Grass looked much better when it changed colors, shimmering through the rainbow.

Hours later, she looked up from the grass to see shadows throughout the greenhouse. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a large, gold men's watch knotted to the end of a satin ribbon.

Rubbing her fingers along the fringed end of what had been her mother's favorite ribbon, she sighed, then turned towards the castle.


	61. Lovelight

I know that it's silly to analyze a kiss. A kiss should be about passion, love. Shouldn't I be fully wrapped up in everything my partner is offering?

I wonder who gave the first kiss. How did the receiver know that the kiss was from love, not as an attack…. Why am I debating historical points in my mind?

I'm being kissed.  
Focus.

I'm being kissed. I should stop thinking and just feel the moment, shouldn't I?...  
Only I ….don't feel anything special.  
This is incredibly personal.. and I'm just standing here, with my arms around Viktor…. feeling totally…. detached.


	62. Pillow Fight

"It's very simple," Hermione said. "Just concentrate on the pillow."

"Accio Pillow!!"

"ACCIO pillow!"

"Accio that bloody pillow already, Harry- I'm starving!" As if on cue, Ron's stomach rumbled.

"If it's so easy, let's see you do it" Harry countered.

Ron's face got red, but he took out his wand,closing his eyes to get in the proper 'mindset'.  
Harry smirked. "You aren't going to be able to do that during a battle, Ron"

"A-A-Accio Pillow…"  
Hermione and Harry threw pillows at him as hard as they could.

The three friends fell down, laughing.


	63. Distance

From where Draco Malfoy sat, he had a perfect view of the Golden Trio at dinner.

He and his companions had often used their location for light dinner humor, since watching Weasel eat guaranteed a few laughs.

Today, though, he saw Granger crying. And he saw Potter and Weasel comforting her.  
Malfoys didn't cry, so it shouldn't have even mattered.

But it did.  
Because if he began to cry one day - which he never would - no one would comfort him.

No one would care.

He had never before realized that, perhaps, what his family had done might have been wrong.


	64. Whispering Oaks

**To my Readers:**

**I am really sorry for my unannounced absence.  
Life got complicated on me with APs and final papers and stuff…. but I am back now : )**

**This drabble is a two part drabble… When you see the chapter tomorrow you'll understand…**

* * *

This acorn was not merely dropped by a squirrel, but given, donated to the forest.  
And when the forest is granted such a gift, she safeguards it, protects it from the wind and rain while it is fragile.

Slowly, slowly the acorn grows and grows.

Soon, it becomes a sapling, and then – a tree.  
But this tree felt lost, for who needs one specific oak when there are hundreds surrounding it? This tree felt as though she had no purpose.

Until one day, a small wizard walked through the woods – and of all the trees, he stopped at her base.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfiction author gets. _


	65. Whispering Pines

**Here's part two….. Enjoy!**

* * *

He had been walking for a long time, past the weeping willows and the whispering pines in search of a tree with magic.

Not every tree is magical, just as not every person is magical, and it was his job to find those special trees.

At the base of our tall oak tree, the product of the squirrel's gift so many years ago, he stopped. Gently, precisely, Ollivander put his palm on the rough bark, listening.

The magic was flowing strong inside. Whichever wizard was chosen by the wand that this tree would make would be a lucky wizard indeed.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfiction author gets. _


	66. Powder Sand

Charlie stood transfixed, watching the purple dragon as she rose above the mountain tops.

The way she flapped her wings just enough to achieve height,  
the way she bugled her triumph,  
the way she soared,  
the way she flew.

Suddenly, she spun and dove straight down, snatching a cow from a poor farmer's field. She beat her wings hard, eager to return home.

The dragon landed; soft powdery sand flew up from the impact.

Tenderly, powerfully, the mother dragon ripped a leg off of the cow and fed it to her newest hatchling.

Charlie could only watch in awe.


	67. Rose Delight

Sorry for the delay-- Life and all that, and then when I sat down to write I ended up with a decent-length one-shot instead of a drabble... That should be up in the next week... I'm back though... and I'm going for 100!

Thanks for sticking by me, and welcome to all the "newbies" ;)

* * *

James Potter and Sirius are playing one-on-one quidditch **right in front of me and my friends.**  
I'm sure they picked our spot on purpose...

Potter keeps winking at me, blowing me kisses... showing off by doing feints and twists.  
As if the whole school didn't already know the jerk liked me.

uuuuugh- here he comes-  
-flying towards me - with a stick?! Has he gone mad??

"For you, my lady —a rose as delightful as yourself."

I look back at his hand- and there's a beautiful rose.  
That he transfigured.  
For me.

Alright... maybe I do like him now... a little...


	68. Summer Field

"The art of Transfiguration is an old and noble one..." began McGonagall, but Tonks couldn't concentrate... Summer was still lingering outside of Hogwarts, the leaves still danced green...

Katy poked her. "Tonks, focus! It's our first day of school- pay _attention!_ And...umm... your hair's turned green..."

Quickly, Tonks fixed her hair color, hoping that no one else had noticed -but no use.  
McGonagall paused her introduction long enough to ask to see her after class.

The whole class turned and stared.

Tonks blushed deeply, concentrating hard on maintaining her usual appearance, but wishing she could just sink into the chair...

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfic author recieves.  
_


	69. Summer Charm

_Just wanted to let you guys know that I'm leaving really early Tuesday for my senior trip, so there may not be another update until Friday lunchtime, but I haven't forgotten you! Stick around :)_

_Anyways, Enjoy..._

* * *

Shaken awake from her daydream, Tonks hurried to her partner.  
She hadn't been paying attention... but the proper spell was on the board...

Tonks tried, but instead of becoming a needle, her match gave a small shudder, then snapped in half.

"Professor..." she called nervously. " I think I need another match..."  
"Another-. Nymphadora. What did you **do** to it??"  
Wincing at the sound of her name said out-loud, Tonks repeated her request.

McGonagall raised her eyes to the ceiling.

"Nymphadora, you have to be the clumsiest student that I will **ever** teach."  
McGonagall sighed, then wordlessly repaired the match.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfic author recieves...  
_


	70. Japanese Maple

From where Fleur sat, she could barely distinguish her own reflection in the gently rippling pond. The water moved slowly one way, then the other…  
And so the image was unfocused, the edges blending with other reflections.

A breeze ruffled the leaves of the Japanese maple overhead; the entire image becoming suddenly sun-speckled as the sky peeked through onto the water's surface.

One small, red leaf fluttered down, landing artfully, gently in her hair.  
A strong hand reached over and tenderly pulled it off. As the tall redhead leaned in to kiss her, Fleur saw her reflection just as it belonged.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfic author recieves..._


	71. Wine Barrel

The last drunk having left, Tom slowly stood up and somberly retrieved the mop.

People did come to drink to births and engagements… But far too many came to drink away deaths, sadnesses, pains. Day after day after day, Martin drank away a divorce, Stuart a lost job, Peter a death, among others.

Every drink he served them and every coin they paid only served to testify to the depths of their pain.

So day after day, when they had drunk as much as they could, Tom had to stand and wipe away what had spilled from their broken dreams.

* * *

_reviews are the only payment a fanfic author recieves.  
_


	72. Grounded

Rita stared nervously at the floor, sneaking an occasional glance up at her parent's fuming faces.

Bright red.  
Boy, was she in for it.

"RITA ELIZABETH SKEETER! How dare you! When the newspaper asked for a student-written column, they were looking for why you love unicorns or some such triviality. They did **not** want a scathing editorial critiquing Principal Edward's mental facilities after his divorce!!"

_I only wrote the truth…_ thought Rita - but she mumbled "The editor liked it."

"Well, I do not! We didn't teach you to write so you could pen vicious lies. Rita Skeeter, you are grounded!!"

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fan-fic author recieves. _


	73. Powdered Petals

Severus slammed the door to the potions dungeon, locking it behind him.  
Growling, he took the wilting rose and ripped the first petal off.

_She loves me not.  
_If she did, she'd be in **my** arms now.  
Riiiip.  
_She loves me not.  
_Instead, she's with that damned Potter.  
_She loves me not.  
_Him. Not me.  
Riiip.  
_She loves me not.  
__She loves me not._

Soon, all of the petals were ripped off; his vicious anger cooled just a bit.  
He began grinding the petals, preparing them for the potion, the only way tonight that he would have a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fan-fic author recieves. _


	74. Moonlight White

Panting softly from his run, Draco stepped behind a tree to catch his breath.

Above him, in harsh, bright green hung the Dark Mark, announcing the murder and carnage to the whole region.  
Above him, in crisp, pure white hung the moon, illuminating the region, leaving him open to attack.

The Dark Mark; the Light.  
The forest, the in-betweens.

Soon - he won't be able to shy from commitment; soon there will be only one side of the fence.  
Deep down, he knows that what he really wants is to have his arm remain the pale, pale white of moonlight, unblemished.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fan-fiction author recieves...  
_


	75. Copper Leaf

Harry made his way through the woods, being careful not to crack a twig.  
His stomach growled.  
Still nothing.

He hoped Hermione was having better luck finding food than he was; everything seemed to be the same frost color. He could barely distinguish his own feet from the path.

Everything looked whitish, covered in small ice crystals, except-- there.  
A small copper leaf peeked out, almost hidden underneath the leaves.

Digging his nearly frozen hands into the pile, he tried to find that wonderful color again.

There. Copper.  
Ginny….

Closing his eyes, Harry held the lonely leaf to his heart…

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fan-fiction author receives..._


	76. Sea Sprite

Luna sat, her feet hanging over the edge of the lake, and tried to stay absolutely still.

After two hours , she felt pretty stiff. Still Nothing.  
Maybe it was her toe swooshing around in the water.  
Maybe it was just too cold for sprites.

She figured she ought to head back to the castle for dinner and try again later.

And then a faint glimmer appeared at the edge of the lake.  
So there _were_ sprites here!  
The tall sea sprite raised her hand in solemn greeting towards the young woman, then disappeared.

Grinning, Luna began to relace her shoes.


	77. Castle Stone

Students of Hogwarts had perennially hidden from passing prefects in a small, hidden hallway, only visible when your hand touched a certain stone. Prefects, remembering well their own miscreant days (or more likely, those of their friends), seemed to forget the secret.

No one knows who first found this secret: Perhaps it was a witch, marking the height difference between two friends.  
Perhaps it was a sleepy first year, resting his head against the wall.  
Perhaps a teacher, a house-elf, a visiting parent.

Perhaps the stone had simply offered itself to someone in need.  
One never knew, with the castle.


	78. Centaur

The forest is full of creatures, good and evil.  
But good and evil are only distinctions that Man makes. Of good and evil, the animals know nothing.  
A snake is merely snake-like; a unicorn merely a four-legged beast with one horn.

The centaurs, too, do not see good and evil.  
They see pride and modesty… greed and giving… dangerous and safe… Mankind and others.

They choose not to socialize with us, for they disdain our pathetic attachments to "Divination" and our desire for power, our intrusions, our need to label something.

The forest is full of creatures, good and evil.


	79. Phantom Hue

In the rush of college beginning, and the craziness of packing and making friends and starting school, this somehow slipped my mind, and for that I truly apologize! I promised that I'd go to 100, and I've still got 21 to go, so I'm back, ready to keep my promise. My style's shifted a little, but I hope you still find them enjoyable to read. Reviews would be great, especially since it's been quite a few months since I've written fanfiction. Thanks to everyone who's added me to favorites—I hope these are up to par!

Enjoy!!

* * *

Hermione stood in the privacy of her room, the door locked.  
Hesitantly, she opened the newly-purchased wooden box.

Inside, glistening against the soft velvet lay a slender wand.

She swallowed, and lifted the wand, and drew a ribbon through the air, holding her breath.

Golden sparks followed the tip, shimmering over her floor for just a moment, then they were gone.  
While they had lasted, they had been the most magical thing she had ever seen.

Realizing that, she grinned, eager to join the world where golden sparks came out of wooden wands, leaving a small trace of magic behind.


	80. MoonDrop

My hand suddenly found itself constrained, kept from its desired path of motion.  
I simply pushed harder, felt the sudden freedom. Then came a clang.

My necklace slides smoothly off my neck.  
Frozen still, my mind raced.  
My hand. The Necklace. Noise.  
Broken.

Slowly, I examine the necklace as it remains: a long chain with a clasp at one end, but nowhere to close it.  
I try anyways.

The necklace slips back into my palm, just as I feared.  
I feel my identity slipping away from me.

Still worse though, is that I have lost my protection against the Nargles.


	81. Pink Chintz

She'd been trying to say it for as long as she could remember.  
Well, perhaps not really quite that long, but it certainly felt that way.

He was so dreamy with those green eyes… dark hair… that scar….

Everything about him was incredible.

How she wished she were two years older so they could be in classes _together.  
_The thought made her weak in the knees.

And here she was. Saying it.  
Well, not actually saying it… but close.

She finished dipping the last of the chocolates in the love potion she'd bought, and began to wrap up the box.


	82. Heirloom Lace

Ron sat alone on the bed, visibly upset as he fingered the lace edging of his "new" dress robes.

Mum would insist on its historical value; Fred and George would never stop laughing.  
Dad might wince inside, but would never argue with Mum; Ginny was a girl. Her thoughts didn't count anyways.

It was hopeless.  
The only way that lace was coming off was if he did it… without magic.

He dug around in his desk drawer for a pair of scissors, started chopping at the delicate lace, praying that soon, no one would be able to tell.


	83. Blue Feather

For A.E. Venturi:

* * *

Parvati peeked around the door, found it empty, motioned her sister in.  
The two tip-toed to their mother's vanity, noiselessly extracting two small bottles.

A floorboard creaked; their eyes met, they grabbed cotton balls and fled.

Sitting in their own room, safe, they begin to giggle.  
Padma held out the two bottles, offering her sister first choice.

Parvati, whose idea this had been from the beginning, thought for a moment.  
"Let's share. I'll do blue on my fingers, scarlet on my toes, and you be the opposite."

Smiling, each opened the bottle they would use first and began to paint.

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfiction author receives._


	84. Wool Tweed

_I want to offer a large apology for the very unannounced hiatus in my posting. I found it so hard to write meaningful ones, and so much pressure from the rest of my life, that I dropped completely out of sight. By chance, I was checking my old email a few days ago, and I found a review from PhoenixTears95. It inspired me to dig out the fragments of drabbles which remained, polish them off and publish._

_They are all done now, and I will publish one a day until I reach the 100th drabble.  
I hope that those of you who read them enjoy and review. _

PhoenixTears95: This is for you.

* * *

Filius Flitwick stood there, pulling his new tweed jacket, adjusting it until it hung properly.  
It was so difficult to get clothes that fit him correctly, and what one wore on the first day of school was so important.  
He knew that had been true as a student; it couldn't be any less true as a professor.

Wool for comfort in the castle's stone walls....  
Tweed for the appearance of academic excellence….

Pants that matched the color of the coat, though no student would ever know.

He shouldered his briefcase, tugged the jacket one last time and opened the door.


	85. Gentle Doe

Lily sadly smiled a soft goodbye, then turned, walking out of the room.  
Severus just stood there, refusing to believe that it was real.

The girl he loved was walking away.  
Did she really think he would forget her that easily?  
Hardly.

Her very existence would forever shape the way he used magic.  
She had changed him, had left him open to love, had shown him its pain.  
For such a gentle girl, she could be unspeakably cruel.

But he loved her regardless, knew he always would.


	86. Melted Butter

Molly rubbed her eyes, deeply tempted to roll over and go back to bed.

No.

This was the day the children had to be off to King's Cross, back to school.  
It wasn't that she didn't trust the Hogwarts house elves, it was that... no one cooks like Mother can.

She wouldn't send her children on that train unless she knew they had been fed hearty breakfasts and provided with some lunch for the long trip.  
Arthur certainly wasn't going to get up and make them all sandwiches.

Slipping on her slippers, Molly headed downstairs to begin the pancake making.


	87. Firecracker

George stood slightly apart from the others, watching their New Year's cheer.  
They were certainly entitled to a little happiness.

George simply couldn't get himself into the spirit of things.  
Oh, he went to work every day, tried to keep the whole shop together- all of the managing, inventing, creating, laughing… but Fred had balanced him, and now he was alone.

Across the room, Harry and Ginny took up opposite ends of a cracker, pulling hard.  
George stopped his moping for a moment to watch, to grin.

He knew what was in there, and **this **was going to be good…..

* * *

_Reviews are the only payment a fanfic author receives...._


	88. Ink Black

Ginny stood there, ignoring the water seeping through her shoes, watching her diary closely. The same diary she had been writing in all year, the same diary that had been her closest friend at Hogwarts, the same diary which ought never to have written back – that diary's crisp, black letters were beginning to shimmer.

Tom was finally coming to visit her.

The ink stretched and then, within moments, there he stood.

His hair was the same color as the ink she had been using, his eyes dark and mysterious as he smiled at her, just at her.

Ginny nearly swooned.


	89. Eggnog

He stood there, stirring the eggnog, listening in vain for any sound of Christmas cheer, but all he heard was the _clink, clink_ of his spoon hitting the side of the glass as he stirred.

All he'd ever heard was the _'clink'._  
He'd abandoned his family, too eager for wealth, fame, power.  
And now- he had no one. He wished he knew if they missed him, if he could ever go back.

Faintly, outdoors Percy heard carolers singing. Setting the eggnog down, grabbing a few coins, he went to stand outside and sing, so that Christmas wouldn't be completely lonely.


	90. Luminary

They had won, but at night, sweaty, tossing, turning, Harry feared the cost had been too high.  
Dumbledore. Sirius. Lupin….

The full moon shone. Harry swung himself out of bed, standing by the window, watching the moon's light.

If things had happened the way **he'd** wanted them to, Lupin would be transformed right now. Wolfsbane made it easier; Tonks loved him in spite of it.  
Lupin would have transformed, been surrounded by family, would have watched his son grow.

Harry found himself straining to hear a howl at the moon, until tears filled his eyes because he knew he wouldn't.


	91. Moss Landing

Ron zoomed around, delighted to be really flying.

"Ron, Dinner! Come down" called Charlie.  
The six-year old shook his head.

"Ron… Mum's going to be mad! She said you couldn't ride alone yet and-"  
"But I'm flying good! Like a big boy!"  
Ron crossed his arms across his chest, an angry pout on his face.

But without his tenuous grip on the broomstick, it dipped, speeding downwards, sending Ron tumbling on the soft moss.  
"Ouch!"

Charlie ran over. "You okay?"

Ron picked himself up, brushed the dirt deeper in his pants and looked up hopefully.  
"Again after supper?"

* * *

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	92. Witching Hour

Dumbledore stood at the front of of the Hall, his eyes scanning the room as students waited for the term to begin, his first as Headmaster…

Nervously thinking back on his own sorting, he realized that for all his struggle to find the right words, what he said wasn't as important as this feeling of belonging would come to be.

Dumbledore figured that the best way was to put the first years out of their misery already.  
He motioned to the sorting hat to be brought out, to see what this year's crop of witches and wizards were made of.


	93. Formal Garden

The castle itself seemed delighted to have such well-executed magic living within it.

The greenery Fred and George had left behind was truly a masterpiece. It was as much a 'farewell,old chap' to the castle as it was to the students; a testimony to their skills, their penchant for rule-breaking.

Hogwarts had aided and stumped them, let them in and kept its secrets, having gotten along remarkably well with the twins.

The portable swamp they left behind was nearly a formal declaration of affection and gratitude.  
The castle murmured, content.


	94. Dragon Fruit

Draco stood there, frozen.  
This blonde, sleeping baby in his arms was his **son.**

He wondered if his father had ever taken the time to count his toes, or if he had simply been relieved in the continuing of the Malfoy line.

Another pureblood, another Slytherin, another prefect.  
Draco could see his son's life all planned out; had his father done that?

Would he constantly be comparing himself to his father, even now feeling his father's shadow and sneer of disapproval?  
Draco swore he would not.

The baby murmured softly in Draco's arms. His baby.  
"Hello Scorpius. I'm your father."


	95. Silver Service

* * *

Tom Riddle stood there, admiring his badge.  
The Headmaster had seen fit to reward his "service" with an ostentatious gift.  
He stared at it, saw it nearly catch the light.  
He reread the words, pondering at the gullibility of those in control.  
It could not have been a more self-serving service.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew stood there, admiring his arm.  
The Dark Lord had seen fit to grant him a most precious gift.  
He held it up, saw it nearly catch the light.  
He flexed his fingers, marveling at their precision and control.  
He could not have been prouder of his service.


End file.
